You've Got the Music in You
by Casey Greene
Summary: A little T'Pol story concerning loosing one's logical thinking processes, a green dress, 1980's Earth pop music, and a little ol' engineer called Trip...*~*~*~*Part 5 up. Please don't hate me, I hate myself enough already. *runs off and cries in corner*
1.

You've Got the Music In You

By Casey Greene

I haven't slept in days. True, my Vulcan physiology allows me to go for several days without rest, but I have gone far too long. And I'm not staying up on purpose, either. I just cannot go to sleep. I want to do _something_, but I am unsure as to what. Meditation does not work. I feel-I feel. That's it. I feel. I am not supposed to feel. I am not supposed to feel or have any emotions. And yet, I do. But it's not really a feeling I have. It's more of a desire, a longing. But I don' know what-or who?-for. Who. Who. At the thought of him-I feel. A little part of me wishes I was human, sometimes. They suffer so much pain from their expression of emotions, yet they seem to persevere in spite of, or perhaps because of that release.

In direct disobeyance of Vulcan protocol I am going to let these emotions in me out for a little air.

1. Puzzlement. I am puzzled at his behavior toward me. At first, he appeared to hate me. But now, after the cancellation of my marriage, he seems-different, less harsh.

2. Anxiety.

Enough of that. I need to do something-manual, something with my hands.

A dress. I needed to make a dress. Something-esthetically pleasing. In truth, illogical, since I had no need, and if I did, I could just requisition one, but I had to _make_ something. I had to create something. Green. Deep, dark green. I asked the supply facility for 7 meters of dark green material. It asked for the type of material, and I made a quick search for an acceptable material type. I decided on a 50/50 rayon/cotton blend-Earth origin. Illogical, yet somehow right.

I spent the next two hours researching types of dresses to find one that I liked. To find one esthetically pleasing, yet modest enough for me to wear without dishonor. For some reason, I felt as though other people-another person-should see me like this, in my dress. I hadn't even decided on what kind, and already I was planning to show myself off like some- some- human. I eventually decided on a form-fitting floor length dress with a low v-neck, full skirt, and long sleeves with a slit down each one, from the top of my shoulders to my wrists. I noticed, not for the first time, but for the first time I cared, that I was very thin. I was muscled appropriately for my build and species, but as I looked at my arms, I noticed that they were much thinner than those of the human females onboard. I looked back to the computer screen, and looked at the dress models themselves, not just their dresses. It seemed that most of them were approximately the same build as me, but they had thicker arms than mine. But there were several among them whose arms were as thin or thinner than mine. I decided not to give it any more thought. Not much more, at least.

I got the pattern and cut it out, but I couldn't concentrate. I thought for a while. Music. I needed music. Of all the illogical things, first a dress, now music. Oh, how I feared humanity! And yet, I longed for it at the same time. I wondered if it had been something I ate. Or perhaps I didn't eat. I also hadn't eaten recently. But I walked over to the computer and started looking for some music. For some reason, I went for the Earth music first. I needed something emotional for this endeavor. I started with the earliest recordings, thinking logically for once in this totally illogical activity. The music was too-logical. I marked it anyway for future reference. The music selection jumped about 200 years, to the 1960's. No. Not quite right. 1970's, no, still not right yet. 1980's. There I stopped. This was exactly what I was looking-listening?-for. I asked the computer to play a variety of music fro this decade. This music, emotional and human as it was, appealed to some illogical part of me that-loved it. I felt something I had only felt once before, a very long time ago. I was pleased. It was the oddest feeling, a feeling of utter contentment. And in that moment, I felt as though all the universe was pleased too. And with that feeling, I began to sew.

It took me 7 days to finish it. Normally, that is, if making dresses by hand were normal for me, it would have taken me far less time, a few hours perhaps, but I spent quite a bit of time meditating to the music. And sleeping to the music. And eating to the music. The music was greatly improving my psyche and general outlook on life. I had been heard humming upon one occasion. The ensign who heard me knew the same song, and we hummed it from beginning to end. When we were finished, she smiled at me, like I had let her in on some wonderful secret. It soon became known about the ship that I was changing, for the better. The dress was beautiful, and it fit me perfectly. And not only did it fit me, I felt as though it suited me. I was trying it on the 7th night, just to make sure it was perfect, and I had almost gotten the zipper zipped, and then I couldn't. For all my supposed flexibility, I could not reach the zipper!

Just then, I heard the door chime. Out of habit and distraction I called out, "come in." The door opened, but my back was to it, so I could not see who it was who entered. 

"Hey, T'Pol, I-wow! You- you're- "

I half turned around. It was him. Trip was standing there, his mouth opening and closing noiselessly.

"Wearing a dress? Listening to non-Vulcan music? Sewing?" I asked almost impishly.

He gulped and replied smoothly-smoother than he had first started, at least-"All of the above?" He noticed my loosing battle with the zipper. "Here, let me help you with that." I remembered I wasn't wearing a support garment. He came approximately 3 centimeters from my body, based upon the increase in ambient temperature, and zipped up the back of my dress. "You know, I used to watch my dad do this for my mom when I was little. I always wondered if I would get to zip up the back of a beautiful lady's dress." I turned around, and he looked me up and down. Again, I felt irrationally pleased. "Guess today's my lucky day," he said softly, his eyes momentarily loosing their focus.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry if- that I've offended you, I'd better go now-" he said quickly, and turned around. I grabbed his right shoulder, and turned him around to face me. I firmly placed my hands on his shoulders.

They were nice shoulders, thin but firmly muscled, like a Vulcan's. I noticed that he was about 7 centimeters taller than me, but I laid odds that if necessary, I could stand on my toes and nearly match his height. But only if necessary.

I looked up at him, looking him right in the eyes. I stood there for a moment, just looking at his eyes. What had someone once said, the eyes are the windows to the soul? His were mostly brown, but with little specks of green, blue and a ring of yellow around his pupils, making them look like little solar eclipses.

"You haven't offended me. Not at all." I paused for half a moment, still looking at him. "You have beautiful eyes, did you know that?" I brushed an errant wisp of silky brown hair from his eyes. He remained silent for about 30 seconds. Than he blinked twice and swallowed.

"Uh, yeah, uh, or so I've been told that. Yeah, uh, yours aren't so bad yourself. I mean, uh-" He was grasping for articulation and not reaching.

"So, what did you come here to ask me?"

"Ask you? Oh! Yeah, uh, T'Pol, there's a, uh, oh what's it called-"

"Party?" I supplied. It was apparently Porthos's birthday; I guess someone just needed an excuse to socialize. Perhaps that's what drove me to make the dress I was wearing, in preparation for the party. But I hadn't planned on going. Perhaps I had wanted to, subconsciously. And my automatic suppression of emotion-

Trip's words interrupted my train of thought. "Yeah! The party. I was wondering, y'know, if you weren't going with anyone else, and, if you wanted to go..." he was loosing his vocalization abilities. I knew what he wanted to say, but I needed to hear him say it. Yet another point for illogicity.

"Yes?"

"Ok, what I'm trying to say is," he paused for a moment, with his eyes closed and his mouth open, looking very much like a dead fish. I removed my hands from his shoulders and crossed them on my chest. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Yes?"

"Do you want- I mean, would you honor me by letting me escort you to the party tonight? I mean, if you want to go, I mean, I told Jon this was a bad idea-no offense- but-" I put my hand over his mouth. He looked at me, so surprised, his eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of his head, though I knew it was impossible.

"Yes, I will accompany you. Is this attire suitable?" He nodded, still unable to speak. I removed my hand and walked toward the closet.

"W-wha-" he started.

"Shoes," I replied.

"Ah."

I replicated a pair of dark green sock-like slip-on shoes with flexible soles. I put them on, and noticed Trip looking at me, still speechless. In a sudden fit of uncontrollable whimsy, I twirled around, letting my skirt flare about me. For the second time tonight, I was pleased. Both with myself, for once, and with him. Completely illogical, but completely wonderful.

"You like?" I asked, truly impish.

"I like. Shall we?" He held out his arm. I walked across the room and put my hand on it. Thin but muscled, just like his shoulders. And like mine. He looked at me, and smiled. We walked to the mess hall, the smile still on his face. I started humming in my mind.

Not bad at all. For a human.

Back to My Stories 


	2. 

You've Got The Music In You

Part 2

By Casey Greene

We walked in the mess hall, and he was still smiling. Most of the crew was wearing civilian clothing, but some were still in uniform, like Trip. I don't know when I started to think of him as Trip, possibly after he convinced me to stay onboard Enterprise and break off my betrothal. I would have to find someone to break the mental link soon. My betrothed would have had his broken by the priests on Vulcan, but as there were no Vulcans here, I would have to find a human to help me. I had considered Hoshi Sato, as she knew the Vulcan language, but in order to break the link, a mind-meld would be required. I did not think she was psychologically prepared for such intense mental strain, nor would she be able to help me with the emotional backlash. 

We walked by the ensign who had hummed with me. She was laughing at something her date had said. She saw me, looked at my dress, Trip-was he my escort? My date?-, and winked in approval. It seemed I had made a friend, however distant. We continued walking, and ended up with Hoshi Sato and Malcolm Reed. I dropped my hand from Trip's arm. 

"Great party, huh?" Malcolm asked. 

"Uh, I don't know, we just got here. Is it?" Trip asked. Malcolm nodded, glanced at Hoshi, and smiled. 

"Sure is," he said. 

"Hey Malcolm, why don't you get me some punch?" Hoshi asked. 

"Sure thing. Back in a flash." I looked at Trip. 

"Hey, T'Pol, would you like something to drink as well?" he asked. 

"Yes, thank you." I replied. 

"Non-alcoholic?" 

"Please." Trip went after Malcolm. 

"So?" Hoshi asked. 

"So?" I replied, somewhat confused. 

"So, what's gotten into you? You're wearing a dress, humming, you've got Trip getting you drinks. People might think you're acting human." 

This concept hit me like a ton of dilithium. Me? Human? Becoming the one thing I most feared and yet desired? I reviewed the past few days. It was indeed plausible that some of the crewmembers might begin to think of me as a human. I displayed the outward signs of emotion, engaged in the completely illogical activity of humming, allowed my emotions to control me-I was out of control. Perhaps the cause of all this illogical activity was in my broken-yet-unbroken mental link. 

"It suits you," she said. 

"Humanity?" I replied, starting to put up my emotional shields and feeling my face return to it's usual hardened expression, one I had worn with a non-emotion nearing pride through the most trying of circumstances. 

She must have seen my expression. "Oh, no. I meant your dress. It's beautiful. Is it in the supply facility, or did you have to order specially?" 

I relaxed my face. There was no threat here, and I planned to enjoy myself while I was here and my emotions were semi-intact. "I made it. Myself. By hand. I don't know if the dress itself is on the ship, but the pattern is. Do you really like it? It took me a week to make." I don't know what possessed me to say the last two sentences; they had just popped into my head and out my mouth before I could stop them It wasn't a lie, just unlike me not to tell the whole truth. If I were human, I mused, I wonder if I would feel guilt over such an untruth? 

"Really? Oh, wow, it must have! Yes, I really do. The color is just perfect on you. I think," she cocked her head to the left in thought. "I think I'd rather have it in dark blue or purple. What do you think?" 

I found myself tilting my head just like Hoshi had. The ship light made her hair seem slightly purple, but her eyes always seemed bluish-black in color. I was about to suggest a dark indigo, when Trip and Malcolm cam back with our drinks. 

"A punch for milady-" Malcolm said as he handed Hoshi her drink. 

"-And some fruit juice for mine," Trip said, smiling as he handed me mine. I was "his lady" for the night. I felt a little lighter than I had a moment before. I felt almost pleased. But somehow more importantly, I felt as though I belonged. Not just to him, but I felt as though I belonged at the party, on the ship, with the crew. A little shiver ran down my spine; I guessed it was another aspect of my newfound emotion of pleasure. I sipped the juice, looking straight into his eyes as he did the same. 

"Cheers," he said softly. I raised my eyebrow slightly and felt the corners of my mouth pulling upward. I smiled. I couldn't believe it; I had smiled. And not only that, he smiled back. How many aspects of this one emotion, happiness, were there? I now understood why Humans laughed, made friends, chased their dreams, engaged in such frivolous activities, dressed up, and had parties. I now understood why humans loved, and why they considered love the best emotion. It was because they loved to be happy, because happiness felt so wonderful. I had an intense desire to be human in that moment of total comprehension. And I also remembered a word, a human word that one of their 20th century authors had made up to describe that total comprehension, but at the moment, I couldn't recall it. Not that the word itself mattered, though. It was the concept that was important, I knew that. I grokked-that was the word, grok-happiness. I felt like flying. 

"Would you like to dance, T'Pol? I mean, if- you- " 

"Yes, that would be- " I searched for the word, almost startled. This was one question I hadn't expected, and I didn't exactly know how to respond. "-nice." He smiled, eyes twinkling, and held out his hand. I took it. "I don't exactly know-" I started. 

"Then that'll be our secret. Just follow my lead. Put your hands on my shoulders, I'm going to put mine on your waist. Don't worry about what the other people are doing-"he turned his head toward Malcolm and Hoshi, who were giggling childishly, and apparently at us. My mind suddenly filled with questions. Were Trip and I so mismatched, so opposite each other personality-wise that merely the sight of us dancing together caused amusement? Or perhaps it was just me, T'Pol, the wicked, cold-hearted, emotionless Vulcan who caused them amusement? And Hoshi, I had just been talking with her; she had not seemed malicious or spiteful, why would she be laughing at me? 

Trip touched my face with his hand, and I turned to look at him. He looked almost sadly at me, and smiled slightly. "Like I said, don't pay any attention to other people, just concentrate on the music. I know you can hear it, with those pretty pointed ears," he touched the point of my right ear lightly, and another shiver ran down my spine, this one stronger. He had no idea how sensitive Vulcan ears were, or exactly what touching another's ears on Vulcan meant. I wondered if he still would have touched my ear if he had known what it meant. A little part of me, deep inside, hoped he would have. He must have felt my hands tighten slightly on his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again, I promise," he said, looking embarrassed. "Just listen to the music, and try to pick out the beat. This song has a four-beat, so just move your feet so you're always in front of me. Hey, you're good at this! I thought you said you didn't know how to dance." 

He grinned when I replied, "Dancing in step to the music is remarkably similar to many Vulcan exercise routines, which are also conducted to music. Although, I must point out, no music on Vulcan is quite this complex." 

"What can I say? We Humans love complexity, especially when we're trying to relax. Does that make any sense at all?" I shook my head, and he laughed. "Didn't think so. It doesn't make any sense to me either, if that's any consolation." He had a nice laugh. I wondered what mine would sound like, if I ever laughed. Would I ever get a chance to laugh? Would I ever feel like laughing? What would cause me to laugh? The thought of never laughing upset me for some reason. 

"What's wrong? Did I say something? I take it back, whatever it was." He looked very concerned. 

"It's not you. It's just-. You will think it is illogical," I protested. How could I admit that I was afraid of not laughing? How could I admit that I wanted to act like a human? He would think me weak. 

"No offense, T'Pol, but just about everything you've done since you decided to stay has been pretty illogical to me. Tell me, I promise you'll feel better afterwards." he pulled me a little closer to him, and I moved my hands so that they were at the base of his neck. I wanted to stay like that forever. I thought about it for a moment and decided to take a leap of faith and trust him. 

"I am afraid I will never laugh." Trip stopped dead in his tracks, and let go of me. I did the same, and stepped backwards. 

"Oh." He scratched his head with a very confused expression on his face. "Wow. Um-" 

"Nevermind, forget I said it." I tried to pull his arms to my waist, but he pulled away. It was too late to take it back, though not for lack of trying. I hadn't wanted to upset him, but I had. I felt an instinctive urge to run to my quarters and not come out unless we were at Vulcan. 

"No, no. This is important. Come on, let's sit down." He took my arm and we walked over to some chairs in an unoccupied corner of the mess hall and sat down. He turned one chair toward another, and motioned for me to sit down. I did, and he sat down in the other one. He sat forward, and put his hands around mine. I shivered again. If pleasure was all about irrational feelings and thoughts and shivering, I mused that someone was bound to ask me if I was cold sometime soon. 

"T'Pol, why are you afraid you will never laugh, if laughing is a display of emotion? Aren't Vulcans not allowed to have emotions?" 

I looked at him for a long time. His logic was indisputable. I was behaving very illogically, and I had no idea why. I suddenly felt very afraid, like something catastrophic was going to happen any second, and had an intense desire to curl up in a fetal position and hope I would wake up from this dream-turned-nightmare. I finally spoke. 

"I am afraid I will never laugh I do not know why. Yes, I am not supposed to feel emotions. But I have been. And I do not know why." He was right and wrong at the same time. I did feel a little better, but I also felt worse. I felt like I was empty, guilty perhaps, which was understandable enough, given that I wasn't supposed to feel at all, but the emotion wasn't quite guilt. But I knew it felt bad. I felt as though I was going to vomit and faint all at once. Neither option looked favorable, considering Trip's head was about a foot away from me. Nonetheless, that was how I felt. And it felt horrible to feel that way. 

"When did these-feelings start?" 

"Approximately 7 days ago." 

"Why'd you say 'approximately'? Don't you know? You'd think something as un-Vulcan as emotions would have you meditating and purging before you could raise an eyebrow. Why did you allow this to go on for a whole week? Why didn't you talk to Doctor Phlox?" He went on asking questions for another minute or so, and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't see. Everything around me became to appear as though viewed through a whitish haze. I felt something slightly warm go down my cheek, like how I had imagined his fingers would feel, but his hands were still on mine. It ran down the side of my nose, around my mouth, and to my chin. Then it stopped, and I felt something drop on my hand. I looked down, and I saw a drop of water fall from my cheek onto my thumb. My face suddenly felt very cold where the thing had touched me, and I realized I was crying. Trip had stopped talking, but I only realized it when I looked up at him. I felt my head get very light, and I saw the world around me grow black from the outside in as I fell forward and into Trip. 

~*~*~*~*~

A supernova of thanks to everyone who helped me (forced me ;-)) to write this. And and even bigger supernova of thanks to Blue Mercury Girl, who Beta'ed this for me. Thank you! =A=Casey=A= 


	3. 

You've Got The Music In You

Part 3

By Casey Greene

When I awoke, I found myself on a bed in Sickbay with Doctor Phlox to my right, Captain Archer just behind him, and Trip to my left. Doctor Phlox looked slightly smug, like he was the proverbial cat who had just swallowed a canary. Captain Archer looked calm if slightly concerned. Trip, however, looked as though he hadn't slept in days. His uniform was rumpled, his hair was a mess, he had dark half-circles under his eyes, and he appeared to have gotten several new wrinkles on his face. It was then that I realized how incredibly handsome he was. I sat up on the bed, and immediately wished I hadn't. My head was pounding like no pain I had ever known before, and Trip's face swam before my eyes. I blinked slowly, and his face righted itself. A light blanket fell from my torso, and I noticed I still had on my dress from- 

"How long have I been unconscious?" I asked quietly. 

"Lights, one-half intensity," the Doctor said. I welcomed the decrease in light. It made my head hurt less. I wondered if total darkness would take away the pain altogether, and if there was anything darker than total blackness. I doubted it. The Doctor continued. "Approximately 2 days. The crew has been very worried about you." He glanced at Trip. "How are you feeling?" 

"Two days? Why?" Two days? What was wrong with me? 

"When you passed out at the party, Commander Tucker here carried you to sickbay. I ran some scans, and-" he looked at the Captain, at Trip, and then back to me. "You may wish to hear the results in private." He looked at me questioningly. I looked at Trip, his face scrunched up with worry and concern. 

"No, it's alright. You can tell me here," I said, still looking at Trip. 

"Very well. You are suffering from, simply put, emotional overload. I assume you have not yet broken your betrothal link as of yet?" I shook my head slightly. "You should do so, and as soon as possible. It is causing your brain to produce massive amounts of hormones, which are affecting your ability to control your emotions. If you had kept your betrothal, not that I am disputing your choice of course, but if you had kept your betrothal, you would have coupled with your mate by now, and the emotions you have been feeling would be directed at your mate, completing the link between the two of you. But as you have decided to stay with us, I assume you have no one to direct your feelings toward." I looked away from Trip, and to my dress, which had become wrinkled from being slept in for two days straight. I probably smelled terrible. 

"So you mean that everything I have felt in the last 9 days has been a result of a hormonal imbalance?" He nodded solemnly. That meant that nothing I had felt was real, everything I had done was because of my choice to stay aboard the Enterprise. Nothing I had felt mattered, it was all fake, it was all a product of my hormone-crazed mind. 

"The way I see it, you have two choices. You can either break the link completely, but you will have to find someone you trust to help you, as I understand it is very invasive, mentally." I nodded slightly, willing myself not to look at Trip. I knew the chances of being able to break the link without harming the person helping me were not too good. I also knew what my other choice was, but I allowed the Doctor to continue. It would be better that way. Trip was the only person I could think of that I could trust as implicitly as was needed, and it would be better if he knew what his options were as well. 

"Your other choice is to find someone else to bond with." I heard Trip inhale sharply. 

"I, uh, have to go to the bridge. Inform me of your-uh, well, get better soon." Captain Archer walked quickly out of Sickbay, leaving me alone with the Doctor and Trip. 

"Thank you, Doctor," I said. He caught the hint, nodded, and left to his office. 

Trip sat down on the side of my bed and put his hand on my leg. It was very reassuring. I felt as though he was trying to comfort me, though I knew it was merely a side effect of my problem. 

"So now you know what I have to do," I said quietly. 

"Yeah. What are you going to do?" he asked. 

I didn't speak for a long time. What was I going to do? What if he couldn't-or wouldn't-help me? What would I do? With the first option, I would loose all the emotions I had felt, and would remain alone until death. And it was definite that I would never laugh. But with the second option, I could mate with someone, and there was the possibility of keeping some aspect of my new emotional freedom. And I might have the chance to laugh. But Trip was the only one I would consider for aid in either option. What if he didn't want to help me? What would I do? There was only one other option, and that was death. And even if I had to give up my emotions, there was one thing I had learned in the past week: I did not wish to die. I had found beauty and wonder in all my surroundings, and found such joy as few other Vulcans could claim. 

"I do not know," I finally said. I looked up at him, and found him staring at me. 

"Well, whatever you choose," he paused for a moment, and touched my hand. "I would be honored to help you in any way I can." I was taken aback and elated at the same time. 

"I- I- Thank you. I would like you to help me. I- trust you very much." Why did I say that? Why couldn't I just tell him? Why couldn't I just say what I felt? What was holding me back? I did not understand. Why couldn't I just tell him how I felt about him, tell him how much he meant to me? Why couldn't I tell him how much I wanted him? 

He looked very slightly disappointed, but after watching his face change expressions so many times in the recent past, I felt myself capable of perceiving what he was feeling. And he was feeling much more disappointed than he looked. "I trust you as well," he said somewhat stiffly. I saw his face start to blur again, and I closed my eyes. But I still felt a tear run down my cheek. This time, it went to the outside of my cheekbone and dropped from my chin. I could feel more coming, so I ducked my head and turned it away from him, taking my hand from him and using it to shield my eyes from his view. It was in that moment I realized that I loved him. Me, T'Pol of Vulcan, in love with a human. That was the final straw. I made a croaking sound and turned over onto my right side, away from Trip, and started to sob. I cried for all the emotions I had experienced, all the ones I now knew were just the result of a horrible hormonal imbalance. I cried because I was a failure as a Vulcan, and I could never be a human, I would never be accepted anywhere. I cried because the Humans and the Andorians and the Klingons and the Suliban and every space-faring race the Vulcans met always ended up hating us. I cried because I had no idea what I was going to do about anything. And then something happened. Instead of going, as I had expected Trip to at my blatant display of weakness, he moved closer and started to rub my shoulder. His touch was strong but gentle at the same time, and very comforting. After a few minutes, when I had stopped crying, I brushed the remaining tears from my eyes as best I could and turned over to face him. 

"Trip, I-" 

"T'Pol, I-" I smiled weakly and he laughed a bit when we started speaking at the same time, interrupting each other simultaneously. 

"You can go first," I said, my voice still a bit croaky from crying. 

"T'Pol," he said after taking a deep breath, "I want to help you in any way I can. I think you know that already. But there's something else I think you should know. I think- I mean, oh God, T'Pol, I think I'm in love with you." Did he just say that, or was I hallucinating? Did he just say he loved me? How was that possible? 

"I- I also have something to say. I- think- I feel- I-" I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes. Now was the time, I had to tell him. If I didn't... So I did. "I- love you also." I watched his facial expression go from shock to confusion, pause at terror for an instant, and then move on to realization, and finally settle at happiness- and perhaps relief? He reached out and ran his fingers down my left cheek, and I felt my skin prickle with goosebumps. His touch felt exactly as I had imagined, soft, warm, with the sensation lingering for a moment after. I closed my eyes, unable to control the feelings inside me. I felt like I was frozen in time, flying like a bird, dying, being born again, burning in a pit of flames, freezing on a glacier and exploding all at once, in that single moment when he touched my face. I had no idea of what was happening to me, inside me, but I knew that I would never be the same again. 

"My God, you're freezing," he said quietly. 

"It's shock," I managed to get out, my eyes still closed. "My body has not become used to the 'raging hormones' controlling it, and is trying to adjust as best it can. But as long as the link remains incomplete, my health will continue to deteriorate. If you are going to help me, it will have to be soon." I opened my eyes and found him staring at me. 

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hang on, let me clear something with the Doctor." He squeezed my hand one last time before releasing it and getting off the bed and walking toward Doctor Phlox's office. I sat up again and watched him go. I tried to get my thoughts in order, but my mind was full of questions I couldn't even begin to answer. Was I actually going to mate with him? What was I doing? What was it going to feel like? Was I going to enjoy it? How did I get myself into this position? Could my situation be termed a 'mess'? Was it going to work? Or would I be worse off than before, my link begun with one and completed with the other, but not fully linked with either of them? I began to cry again. 

"The Doctor says we can- Oh, T'Pol, what's wrong? T'Pol, honey, it's okay, I'm here. Shh, it's okay, it's okay." He got up on the bed again and hugged me close to him. I buried my face in his shoulder. "Boy, I see what he meant by 'emotional overload'. Come on, here, I'll dry your eyes, and we can go to my quarters and talk. Or would you rather go to yours?" 

"Whose are closest?" I asked through my tears. 

"Um, mine." 

I sniffed and said, "Then logically, your quarters would be most preferable." He looked at me curiously, and then started laughing. 

"Oh, T'Pol. I think you'll be just fine. Here, let me help you up." I got off the bed, but when my feet touched the ground, I started to fall. But he was there to catch me. He wrapped an arm around me and looked me in the eye. "Maybe I'd better carry you," he said with a very serious expression on his face. I saw in my mind him carrying me in his arms, walking down the corridor, and crewmembers walking by with confused expressions on their faces. I couldn't help it. Oh, how I tried to hold this noise I found myself making inside of me! But I was unsuccessful. I smiled, and then my lips opened, and then I heard this noise come from my throat, slightly higher than my normal voice, and I immediately covered my mouth with my hand and I laughed. I laughed. And I couldn't stop laughing. My eyelids closed slightly as my cheeks pushed them up, and I could feel my teeth under my fingers as my lips uncovered them in a smile. It was incredible. Trip stood there for a moment, in complete surprise, I suppose he thought I was having a spasm of some sort, but once he got over his initial shock, he realized I was laughing. I watched as his face unfolded into a smile. And then he started to laugh. The sound of our two voices laughing made me feel like, like, I am unsure how to describe it, but incredibly happy and content. 

We calmed down after a while, but we were still smiling broadly. 

"Okay, maybe that idea was a little silly." I bit my lower lip in an attempt to keep my laugh from returning. It worked, but just barely. "How about if I just keep my arm around you like this-" he hugged me closer, till my back was covering half his chest, "-and if you want, I can hold your other hand so that there's no way for you to loose your balance." He guided me toward the door from sickbay, and into the corridor. "See, we can walk real slow, so you can't fall. I won't let you fall, I promise." He looked at me, and I in turn looked at him. It felt so good to be held by him. 

I paused for a moment, and said to him quietly, "I already have fallen. For you." He smiled, and we walked the few remaining meters to his quarters. For some reason, I hadn't seen a single crewmember on our walk, though it was supposed to be time for a duty-shift change. I dismissed it when he slowly let go of my hand and pushed the button to open his door. We walked in, and he sat me down in a chair. 

"Would you like something to drink, or eat or something?" he asked politely. 

"Perhaps something warm to drink would be nice. Can you recommend anything?" 

"How about some chickenless-chicken-noodle-soup?" he asked with a wry grin. 

"That would be fine." I smiled weakly. 

"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't go anywhere, alright?" He looked slightly concerned, but I could tell he was joking. I merely raised my left eyebrow in response, and he left shaking his head and smiling. 

I took this opportunity to look around his quarters. They were just like him: well within regulations, but there was a certain-_something_-about them that made them seem uniquely "Trip". Perhaps it was the smell; a little engine lube mixed with sweat and light cologne. Perhaps it was the little trinkets he had around his room, a small statue of a winged female smiling peacefully and sitting on the edge of a shelf covered in books, the row of photographs of people who appeared to be his family (the men all had his hair, the women his eyes, and they all had his smile), and the series of paintings on his walls. They showed beautiful images of space phenomenae; flowing nebulas of every color, the ice mountains on a frozen moon, and the night sky from Earth, during a summer meteor shower. The furniture was also unique; for all the uniformity Starfleet regulations required, the chairs, pillows, table and couch practically screamed his name. I stood up unsteadily on my feet, and found I could walk if I kept my hand on the wall. So I walked slowly over to the door-to his bedroom? The bathroom?-and walked through. It was the bedroom. His bed looked like he had slept on the top of it (or had tried to, based on my observation of his apparent lack of it), not even bothering to crawl under the covers. The table next to his bed had an alarm clock, a book of poetry from Earth's 19th century, a broken stylus, and a crumpled piece of paper arranged randomly on the top, with another two balls of paper on the floor. I sat down on his bed, picked one up, uncrumpled it, and started reading. It was the beginning of a poem, about the stars and the coldness of the vacuum of space. What was written was quite lovely, except that it had a large scribble through it, and little doodles below it portraying a snake and a schematic for an anti-matter converter. I smoothed it out, and put it inside his book, trailing my fingers over the slightly textured green cover. Perhaps he would finish it sometime. 

I looked around, sensing for some intuitive reason that I should, and saw him standing in the doorway, one hand on the door frame, and the other on his hip, shaking his head slightly with a half-grin on his face. His eyes twinkled as he said, "Prying into other people's business, I see." 

I raised my eyebrow and heard myself reply, "It is my turn." I was still not quite myself, though I hoped I would become 'me' shortly. Whoever I was. After this experience, I did not know if I would ever know who I was again. He laughed slightly, and walked over to me. He picked up his book, with the paper still inside, and I stood up slowly and followed him to the main room, still depending on the wall to keep my world from flipping itself around too much. He set down the book on the table, and pulled out a chair for me. I made my way across the room without too much trouble, and as I sat down, he pushed my chair in with practiced ease. He sat himself next to me, and pushed the soup and a spoon toward me. He picked up his spoon, dipped it into his soup, and watched me eat. 

The soup was incredible. It was much, much stronger than the soup I usually ate-Vulcan soup-but the flavors, so alien to my tongue, were so intensely wonderful-the whole experience was indescribable. After I had taken my first spoonful, and he saw that I wasn't going to spit it out, his nervous expression melted into contentment. He was so handsome. "Good, isn't it?" he asked, and I nodded, still savoring the unique flavors. He then picked up his spoon, and we ate together in silence. 

~*~*~*~*~

A very large supernova of thanks to Blue Mercury Girl for nobly beta-ing my story! 


	4. 

You've Got The Music In You, Part 4

By Casey Greene

After I had finished, I looked up at him. He was spooning up the last remaining drops of his soup. He was so handsome, I almost couldn't believe it. He finished, and sat back in his chair. 

"So, what do we do now?" he asked softly. 

"I- I wish to bond. With you. I don't want to live without emotions anymore. I want to laugh, cry, feel sadness and happiness. I want to love." I took a deep breath, unsure if I should continue. I looked at him, and somewhere inside me, I found the strength to continue. "I want to love you." I felt my stomach tighten as though empty, even though I had just eaten. 

He closed his eyes, and remained quiet for a few minutes. It seemed like an eternity. I could feel my heart pounding, like it was trying to escape from my chest. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to explode. I felt a tear fall from my eye, and I shivered. As I shut my eyes, trying to find peace in the darkness, my mind turned to the old questions. What would he say? He said he loved me, but did he mean it? Did he only love me when he couldn't have me, a feeling that I have found has plagued many humans, and now that he had me (because he did, no doubt of that), would he find that he didn't want me, didn't love me? Did he ever love me, really? Would he help me, now that he knew my true feelings for him? Maybe he thought I only wanted him to help me to forget my emotions, not to free them. If he did think that, would I want to keep the emotions, keep the feelings, keep the love I had for him when I couldn't have him? Would I even want to live without him? 

His words interrupted my anguished reverie. "T'Pol, I have only one question: Is the bonding permanent? Will it last forever?" 

I searched his eyes for his reason for asking. I saw something, but I couldn't tell if it was fear or curiosity, or something else altogether. "Yes," I replied honestly. 

He looked me right in the eye, and I saw his face transform. First, his eyes became brighter, then his mouth started to expand, the corners of his lips being pulled up by unknown forces against the artificial gravity of the ship and the emotional gravity which had, until recently, clouded his face. He stood up, walked over to where I was sitting, and I stood up. He grabbed me in a strong embrace, and as I wrapped my arms around his body, he spun around in a circle, and I felt my feet fly off the ground. When he put me back down, he held me at arms length, looking happier than I had ever seen him, with tears running down his cheeks. I brushed them off with the back of my hand, and as he touched my face, I realized I was crying also. 

"T'Pol, it's official: I am the happiest man alive!" He hugged me again, and we stayed like that for some time, just standing there, in the middle of his room, holding each other. 

"So, how do we start? Can we start now? What do we do, is it just, like, well, not just, but, um, having uh, sex, or is there something else? I remember Doctor Phlox saying something about it being 'very invasive, mentally.' Or was that just the breaking of the link? But if you're going to bond with someone, me, then I guess it would have to have something to do with mental-er-stuff..." I let him think out loud for several more sentences. Did he always ramble on like this when he was worried? How by Surak did I choose him? I noticed he had started walking around the room, still talking to himself. He was so outrageous, so completely contrary to everything I had been taught, it was like we were opposite sides of the ancient Terran Chinese Yin-Yang: he the active male principle, and I the passive female one. We were so different, we fit together perfectly. Incredible. He was still talking to himself, so I decided to take a chance on a human custom I had seen employed successfully on several occasions. I mentally 'crossed my fingers' in hopes I would be successful also. 

"Trip!" I yelled. It felt good to let my emotions have some voice in my actions. He jumped, looked at me with a startled expression on his face. It worked! I decided to take another chance on human customs. "Shut up and come here." He stood there for a moment, his mouth opening and closing, but making no sound. He walked over, and stood before me. I felt myself inhale, and I gauged the distance between us. Too much. I stepped forward, stood on my toes as I had previously estimated would bring our heads to approximately the same level, closed my eyes, and kissed him full on the lips. 

I had never kissed another person; I was a bonded but unmated Vulcan female (or was, I amended), and displays of affection were in the same category as emotion, extremely taboo, and never spoken of, except to say they were not to be. I felt an electric shock shoot through my body the instant our lips touched, and my body was filled with an intense feeling of beatitude, but there was also a calm sensation of absolute rightness that I had never felt before. I felt Trip's arms come around my sides to wrap around my back, pulling me closer, and I raised my own to go around his neck. My skin tingled with-something, and I felt an intense urge to rip off his clothes. Using every milliliter of Vulcanness I had within me, I suppressed the intense emotions I was experiencing and I broke the kiss. 

"I- can't. Not- now. Not now. We- must bond first- or- or-" I managed to get out between gasps. I put my hands on his forearms, still wrapped around me, and pushed them away. I could see the disappointment on Trip's face, and the shock of rejection. I smiled softly, and brushed my right hand against his face. "It's nothing you've done, but in order for us to bond correctly, there are certain steps that must be taken. I will go to my quarters to shower, but I will return in, say, 30 minutes?" I moved my hand to his shoulder. He nodded, smiled, and I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before walking slowly out his quarters. 

When the door closed, I leaned against the wall next to it and closed my eyes. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it was going to explode again. I was burning and freezing at the same time. I shivered, and smiled. Everything was going to be alright, I knew, somehow. I opened my eyes, and walked to my quarters. 

I took off my clothes, and was about to step into the shower, when I noticed my reflection in the mirror. I had never looked at myself, naked, and paid any attention. I had not requested the mirror, it was standard Starfleet order to have a mirror in each bathroom, but neither had I requested it be removed. But something in me made me look. 

I was not body-proud, as that would be un-Vulcan, but modesty was one of the customs Vulcans followed. I saw that my normally tannish skin had a kind of a glow. I went into the main room and got my tricorder. I took a scan of myself, but found nothing unusual except I was going to start my next menstrual cycle in about 6-7 days. That meant- I could become pregnant when Trip and I mated. I desperately hoped my body would not betray me, but I made a mental note to see the doctor about birth control. I decided that now would not be a good time to have a child, Vulcan-Terran relations being what they were at present. I was about to take a shower, when I made another decision. I would be in no condition to see the doctor anytime soon. I went over to the intercom, and called Trip's room. 

"T'Pol to Commander Tucker." 

"Yeah, T'Pol? What's up?" his voice cracked over the shipboard radio. 

"I may be a few minutes late. I need to see Doctor Phlox about- something. Is that acceptable?" I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't be upset. 

"Uh, OK, sure. I'll wait. Anything else?" He sounded confused, but he seemed to understand. 

"No. T'Pol out." I said, and let out a deep sigh. After I finished my shower, I would go talk to the doctor, and find some means of preventing pregnancy. Not permanent, merely temporary, as I did plan on having children. Just not now. 

This time, when I stepped into the shower, nothing prevented me. But as I let the water flow over me, my thoughts took advantage of me, and the questions to which I had no answer took over my consciousness. 

Was I really getting ready to bond with a human? As far as I knew, this had never been attempted. What if something went wrong, what would I do? Would he survive, even if all went well? What would happen to him? I had assumed that we would be bonded as Vulcans were, but would he react in the same way that Vulcan males did? Would he enter a seven-year cycle of Pon Farr as Vulcan males did? Would his brain be able to handle a mind-meld? Would it be able to handle bonding with mine? Did Trip really understand what "bonding" meant? Would he want to continue, once he found out what it entailed? What if something went wrong while we were in the middle of the mind meld, and we were stuck like that? Would either the Captain or the Doctor know to take us to Vulcan? Nothing would go wrong, I tried to reassure myself. But still... 

What if the birth control failed, and I became pregnant? Would I get an abortion, or allow the child to gestate to maturity? Would Trip want a child? What if he does, and I don't? What if we have a child, what would it look like? What would it act like? Would it even survive? It would be the only one of its kind, a half-human, half-Vulcan crossbreed; what would be the reaction of the Terran and Vulcan governments and societies? Would it be ostracized in one, welcomed in the other, or unwelcome in both? Or would it be accepted in both societies, as a natural part of our growing alliance? Where would the child go to be educated? Starfleet? Vulcan? On the ship? Would the child try to be more Vulcan, or human? If it were Vulcan, how would it deal with the increased emotional freedom its human heritage gave it? If it were human, how would it deal with the tendency to control its emotions? Would it have the telepathic ability that Vulcans have, would it be lessened, or completely missing? Would it even survive to be born; what if Vulcan-Human crossbreeds were impossible, and the child was a stillborn, or even worse-a mutant of some sort, horribly deformed? Would it want to live, if it could? Who would make the decision to let it live or not? Me? Trip? The doctor? Captain Archer? Starfleet? The Vulcan High Command? Fate? 

As I stood there in the shower, I felt tears running down my face. I sat down in the cramped chamber, and covered my face with my hands as I started to sob. I stayed like that for a few minutes, letting my emotions empty themselves through my tears. I cried for the Vulcans, for their illogical pride in their philosophy and culture, for the humans and their uncontrollable emotions and illogical actions, for Trip, for myself, and especially for the possibility of our unborn and unconcieved child, for the pain and suffering it would undoubtedly go through, were it to be born, however it could be born. I finally calmed myself, rinsed myself one last time, and turned off the water. I toweled myself dry, and changed into a clean uniform. I dried my hair, combed it straight, took a deep breath, and walked to Sickbay. 

When I walked in, the doctor greeted me in his usual manner: overentusiastically."Ah! Hello, T'Pol! And what brings you here?" A concerned expression crossed his face. 

"No, Doctor. I am- fine. But- " I sighed. "I wish to discuss birth control. As you know, Commander Tucker and myself are- going to bond. And I do not wish to become pregnant. I am unsure of how such a half-human, half-Vulcan would survive, if it would survive, how it would be accepted-" I looked at him, and he was nodding. 

"I understand. Many a scientist and doctor have discussed that rather volatile topic, myself included, and as far as I know, no decision has been reached on any aspect of it. There are many types of birth control, and although they are very effective at preventing pregnancy, the only sure way is sterilization or abstinence." I shook my head, and he nodded. "However, some of the more effective methods include..." We talked for several minutes on methods and types, and I finally decided on a type of pill that would prevent a fertilized egg from attaching to the uterine wall, and another pill to take after intercourse as an extra measure. We also discussed abortion of a fetus if one were to form, and we decided I would get one without telling Trip. Doctor Phlox was rather concerned about this, but I reassured him that it would be the best way. That way, if I had to get one, the unborn child's terminated possibility would not haunt Trip. 

I had researched such instances, where whole families had been torn apart by such an act, and I had no wish to terminate our relationship, fragile and new as it was. I took the pills, thanked the doctor, and looked at the chronometer on the wall of Sickbay. I had 7 minutes before I was supposed to return to Trip's quarters. To begin the bonding. With Trip. I left Sickbay, and quickly dropped off the pills at my quarters before hurriedly walking to his quarters. 

Author's Note: I know I will probably get some flames from the Pro-Lifers out there, but I seriously hope I don't. Why? Two reasons: 1) To be 'into' Star Trek, one has to be open-minded. The whole concept of Star Trek would be inconceivable otherwise. At fanfiction.net, there are stories about homosexuality, rape, murder, and graphic sex scenes, all of which are accepted, not flamed, for what they are. If they are flamed, it is because the are not well-written, not because of their content. Please, keep an open mind as much as you can. It will be a great asset to you later in life. 2) I do not believe abortion is immoral. I don't know if Vulcans do, but it seems illogical to me that if a child is unwanted by a couple, but they still wish to have intercourse, then by all means, use preventative measures, but if they fail, get an abortion. Why would the Vulcan society wish pain upon an innocent child, whose only crime is being born to unprepared parents? To wish pain upon another seems highly illogical to me. 

However, I promise you now, that T'Pol's preventative measures will work, she will not become pregnant (at this point in time, at least), and she will not need an abortion. I am writing her, I do not wish to put her through any more pain than I absolutely have to; I love her. I love all my characters, why would I wish them pain? And anyway, I don't know exactly how an abortion is performed, how could I write about what I don't know (and don't really want to know, truth be told)? 

So please, if you are about to burn my story to a smoldering crisp, please reconsider. I understand your position, but I do not agree with it. Allow me my opinion, and my giving my opinion to the Star Trek Universe. Thank you. -Casey. 


	5. 

You've Got The Music in you, Part 5

By Casey Greene

I looked down both sides of the corridor as I stood in front of Trip's quarters. My heart was pounding like the warp core under heavy stress, and I was sure everyone on board could hear it. A crewman walked by, smiled at me, and casually raised his right hand almost to his forehead in an archaic salute, and I nodded, rather surprised at his outdated manner of recognizing my authority, but somehow pleased that human chivalry had lasted this long. I took a deep breath, somehow gaining strength from my encounter with what must have been one of the last remaining knights, and pressed the entry signal. 

"Come in!" yelled Trip from inside the room. I pressed the door button, and the door opened, to reveal Trip, neatly dressed and showered, walking over to the door from his couch. 

"Well, are you just going to stand there? Come in!" He smiled and held out his hand, and I looked around the hallway once more before taking it and walking inside. The room's lighting had been reduced about a third. I looked at him closely. He looked a lot better than he looked last time I saw him, more rested. He had probably taken a nap once I left, I concluded. I stepped closer, so I was facing him and we were approximately 10 centimeters apart. I ran my fingers through his hair and noticed his hair was still slightly damp from his shower. He closed his eyes and said, "Mmm, that tickles!" He put one arm on my shoulder and the other on my waist, pulling me closer and began twirling the hairs at the bottom of my skull between his fingers. 

I suddenly wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly against me, and I put my head against his chest. My head fit perfectly. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on the top of my head. It was amazing, how we could just stand there, not saying a word, and yet speaking volumes. It seemed like we were telepathically linked, almost, even though I had not yet initiated the mind-meld. I took it as a sign that I would be successful with the mind-meld, and that we would bond completely. 

"Trip?" I asked softly. 

"Yeah, Hon?" I felt a small shiver of pleasure run down my spine at the affectionate pet name. 

"I love you." 

"I love you, too, T'Pol." 

"Trip?" I asked again. 

"Yeah, Hon?" I could hear the smile in his voice. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He released me from the hug, and held me at arm's length, his hands resting on my shoulders, and looked at me intently, his eyes searching mine. 

"Without a doubt," he said, with a note of finality in his voice. 

"Well, then, let's get started, shall we?" I asked mischievously. I winked, made a half turn so I was facing his bedroom, and held out my left arm. He took it with the same enthusiasm, and we walked to his bedroom. 

I stopped a meter or so into his room, and motioned to his bed. "Sit down in a comfortable position," I said, "this is probably going to take quite some time to explain." He climbed onto his bed, pulled the two pillows from under the dark blue covers, handed one to me, and sat down cross-legged where the pillows had been against the corner and folded his hands in his lap. I climbed onto the bed also, propped my pillow next to the wall, and sat across from him, also cross-legged, my knees touching his, with my left side next to the wall. I placed my left hand on his knee, and he smiled. I periodically squeezed or rubbed his knee while I was talking, reassuring both myself and him. 

"What's going to happen," I said softly, "is what Vulcans call a mind-meld. It is when two minds are joined in a telepathic link, and how we are bonded in childhood. But to bond, there is a process to make a permanent-" Or semi-permanent, I thought ruefully, "-link between two people which must be followed exactly, otherwise..." I let my sentence trail off, as he understood my meaning, and I really didn't want to finish it, for (the illogical) fear of jinxing what I was about to attempt. "To start the meld, I will place my hands on your face," I leaned forward slightly, held out my hands, and lightly touched his face in link-sites, "with my fingers touching certain areas which will aid in the telepathic connection between our two minds. When our minds are linked-or 'melded'-we will be able to hear each other's thoughts. Our two minds will become one, with my thoughts becoming yours and your thoughts becoming mine. At first, all we will be able to sense are each others' surface thoughts, but as we go through this process, we will go further and further into our psyches, going to the most basic thoughts and dreams, and sensing our deepest secrets and desires. From there, our single mind has to make a conscious decision to unite in the Vulcan equivalent of what you might call matrimony, or perhaps a 'marriage of minds'?" He nodded uncertainly, but understanding the concept. This was going better than I had originally expected, but perhaps he was saving his questions so not to interrupt me. 

I sighed, and ran my fingers along his jawbone, and made a circle with my index finger around the part of his chin that stuck out from the rest of his face, stopping in the little cleft in the middle of it. He smiled, and placed his hand on my cheek. "Don't worry, there's not much left to explain," I said, running my fingers through his now-dry hair, trying to reassure him. I felt his fingers stroke my cheek, and a shiver of pleasure ran up my spine. He looked so handsome in the dim light, and I felt so joyful that I loved him, and he loved me in return, and that soon we would be linked together. Forever. 

He laughed, and said, "Thank goodness! You're gonna have a helluva time tryin' a sort out everything you just told me up here!" He removed his hand from my face and tapped the side of his head with it. "No offense or anythin', but, man, this is tougher 'n the Shakespearian Drama class I took at the Academy! All that stage direction and penambic somethin'-or-other stuff t'memorize. I practically flunked that class, 'cause I was so bad at it. Didn't help any that I couldn't act," he finished, with a mischievous half-smile on his face, and I couldn't help but laugh. 

I loved Trip for so many reasons. He was the one person who could make me laugh, he was the one who stayed by my bed in Sickbay when I had been unconscious the past two days. He and I had always had some sort of connection; just by saying one or two words, we could let the other one know exactly what we meant, something I had never had with anyone else I had ever met. Not even my ex-betrothed. He and I had been so mismatched, I don't know how I could ever have considered being with him. 

Yes, I could. For the majority of my life, I couldn't experience emotions; tradition and familial and even racial honor ruled all my decisions. But now that I had freed my emotions, now that I had broken with custom and Vulcan philosophy and thousands of years of mental expansion and emotional repression, I was going to experience them to the fullest and love as completely as I possibly could. I was going to laugh, cry, become angered, feel peace, and I was going to love. I was going to love. I did love. I loved Trip. And I knew that I always would. 

"So explain to me the rest of the bonding process." he said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms behind his head but still listening intently. 

"Well, after we have become bonded, we will have to stay in meld for several hours. The whole bonding will take appropriately six to seven hours." 

"Six to seven hours?" he asked incredulously, unfolding his arms and putting his hands on his knees. He scratched his head and exhaled. "Well, I guess it's less time than a wedding." He smiled. "I wonder if we could get leave from Cap'n Archer..." 

I raised my eyebrow. "We may need it." At his confused look, I continued. This next part would need to be phrased rather delicately. I spoke softly, and he had to lean forward to hear me. "After we have bonded, we will begin a cycle of intense lust and sexual desire. Very intense. This was the only aspect of Vulcan physiology that could not be controlled. It has even been said that as we repressed our emotions further and further, our sexual inclinations became more intense, more animal. That is one of the reasons so very few humans know of our habits." My speech was broken by pauses of both incredible embarrassment and insufficient vocabulary for the nuances of "the talk". He took it rather well, I thought. Or he seemed to, at least. 

It felt so peculiar to be explaining Vulcan sexuality to a human, even-especially?-one I loved. I was given "the talk" by the priest who initiated the betrothal bond between my first mate and myself. I am now impressed and somehow appalled by his detachment from the whole subject, it seemed as if he was reading a description of some primitive behavior by a lesser species, not a perfectly rational biological function for the logical purpose of propagating our species. I remember wondering why this aspect of Vulcans could not be controlled; perhaps logical for one so young, but I also wondered why we were even being told this: our eventual bonding was so far into the future, it seemed incredibly remote to be considering at our young ages. I was six years old, and my future mate was just about to enter his first Pon Farr. 

Would Trip also begin a seven-year cycle? Was there any way to prevent it from happening? I would have to discuss that with the doctor, next time I saw him. 

"How long will this-cycle last?" Trip asked cautiously. 

I took a deep breath, desperately trying to ignore the desire to run to my quarters and meditate myself into a trance until I either died or was deposited on Vulcan, where the priests and High Command would figure out how to deal with me and my regression. No, I had not regressed! I had transcended the need to repress my emotions, I could experience them and survive. But I would do more than survive. I would live long and prosper with the man I loved. I would beat the odds, live with emotions, and blow all that spurious ancient philosophy to Ko-li-nar. 

My new resolve strengthened me. "The initial cycle will last for several days, but the intensity and- need will decrease over the course of appropriately two weeks. After that-" I sighed. I had no idea what was going to happen after that initial period. "After that, we'll just have to see. You could enter a seven-year cycle, like Vulcan males, where you would feel the desire to mate every seven years, you could retain your human habits, a combination of the two, or something completely different. A union like ours has never occurred before in recorded history." Or rather, recorded history available to the public, but I decided now was not the best time to discuss the High Command's censorship of public records and information to both Vulcans and humans. 

Would our relationship, if made public, be concealed from Vulcan society? What effect would our relationship have our our two societies? Our two governments? Our two careers? I felt that on the Enterprise, we would be accepted, but what would happen when the mission was over? What if Trip and I were assigned to different posts? What if Trip had to go to another ship, and I was called back to Vulcan? What if they did something to break our bond? What if they broke mine but not Trip's, what would happen if he died? Would I be able to live without him? Would I want to? 

"So you're saying you don't know what will happen to me, after we bond and, uh, consummate our bonding?" 

"Yes. No. Yes I don't know." I laughed feebly. "Oh, Trip." I placed my hand on his cheek. "I have no idea what is going to happen to you, or what's to become of us. But I do know that I love you." 

"I love you too, T'Pol. Whatever happens, I will always love you. Always and forever." He put his hand on the back of my neck, and we leaned in to kiss. Again, I felt an electric shock, but as he moved his hand upward past my cheek and began lightly touching my ear, tickling me in a most erotic way, I felt the shock wave end up in an unfamiliar region of my body. My thoughts wandered about my head, and I found myself melting into his embrace, loosing control, almost to the point of- 

"Ooh, naughty. No ears unless you mean business, and believe me, you don't know half the meaning of 'business'." I half gasped, half whispered, breaking the kiss. I was rather surprised at my words the moment I spoke them. Where had that come from? I thought back a few weeks, and decided I must have overheard it in the mess hall. 

He stared me in shock, panting slightly. I saw in his eyes sadness, regret, shock, anger, longing, passion, lust, everything that I was feeling as well. But he didn't understand why I had to break it off. If I had lost control, I would have been consumed with lust, and in my fervent need, I could have seriously injured him. We had to bond first. 

"I- We must bond first. If we do not, I do not wish to know what could happen. But we cannot do it now. You haven't slept in a long time, and this is a very long and intense process." I hoped that would cover it. Oh, Surak, how I wanted him! 

"OK, T'Pol, we'll do it your way," he said stiffly, leaning back against the wall and turning his head away from me, finding the ceiling very interesting. I felt as though he had left me to fend for myself on Archer's Comet with out a EV suit. 

"Trip, I didn't mean I don't love you. What I was trying to say-" 

"I know, I know. You're new at this. You're just some poor, innocent Vulcan that got stuck on a ship full o' stinky humans, and your emotions are going into overload, along with your sex drive. An' guess who's the lucky guy that gets to help you out of your jam?" he yelled, getting off the bed. "Me, Trip Tucker, the stinkiest, smelliest, worst example of the human race there is! God damn, T'Pol, why the hell'd ya choose me? Huh? Some kinda Vulcan revenge thing? Or did'ja take pity on me for being so damn human? Maybe you thought you could use me, make me into some kinda human toy to use when you got horny? Huh? Is that it? Is that why? Tell me, T'Pol! Is it?" He looked at me, radiating anger and fury, but when I looked in his eyes, I saw fear. Fear that I was just playing with him. Fear that he had guessed why I wanted him. Fear that I had used his feelings as a way to relieve myself of my urges. Fear that I didn't love him at all. 

So I did the only logical thing to do. I burst into tears and ran out of the room. 


End file.
